


New Heights

by vojavodun



Series: Acts of Aggression [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Choking, Dubious Consent, Fighting, M/M, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Violence, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-31 08:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17845637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vojavodun/pseuds/vojavodun
Summary: Batman confronts the Joker in a skyscraper and the night's events get physical





	New Heights

**Author's Note:**

> the joker likes the batman and is pleased to see him

The nightly news broadcast for Gotham City suddenly experiences an obvious and abrupt interruption. The reporter in the studio looks rather startled. Losing his eloquence and stuttering a bit, he holds the fingers of his right hand to his ear, the other one placed firmly on the table beside the piece of paper that lay there. The severity and callousness of the message he is receiving is conveyed by his facial expression and upright posture, as if he cannot move any other way. He had been gazing at a spot on the floor as he listened to the information he was being told, but finally gazes upwards after an awkward pause. His face is flushed with color too bright to be normal, further indicating distress. “We will take a break from the weather forecast to show some footage we have just received.”

It was one of the Joker’s home videos, filmed on a camcorder. The camera work was shaky and directed at a window overlooking the city at the beginning. The sun was setting. The view shifted until the lens was pointed at the Joker’s face. He was frowning at first but then smiled without showing any teeth. The orange sunlight caused a golden blush to take over his face, and it made his eyes look exceptionally bright and twinkly.

Bruce watches the broadcast from his penthouse, listening intently to his nonsensical rambling. He watches the Joker lick his lips obnoxiously as he finally starts delivering his threats, and notices that they are surprisingly empty. They seem nonspecific and meaningless and give Bruce a strange feeling, but there is no doubt people would be terrified by this spectacle. He begins to suspect it is such: just a spectacle. The Joker likes attention, he knows, and this seems to be one of those moments where he has decided to terrorize the viewers of Gotham’s news channel with his face, as if he is reminding them that he is still as scary and cunning as they know.

The Joker continued with heavy breaths as if he had just finished a run. He mentioned the Batman once again, as he had done on a previous video just like this. This one is easier to watch, however, with no hostages involved. He is teasing him, Bruce can tell; he thinks he’s got a rather good grasp on his character by now. The last thing the Joker said is a challenge, and he finished by showing his sharp yellow teeth to the camera with a big smile. The video ends after a minute of the Joker’s taunting, though it felt five times as long; the reporter is frozen for another pause too long and is shortly joined by a few others at the bench. The nightly news quickly becomes Joker-related as a discussion erupts. Bruce knows he can't take any chances with this maniac and doesn’t hesitate to take to the night. He returns hours later in the early morning tired and with no fresh sighting of the Joker.

A week later, Bruce finds him.

He is in one of the top floors of a tall and dark skyscraper, lurking in the night like a leopard. It is a new building still in construction in the heart of the city. The surrounding light from the moon and other skyscrapers illuminate its emptiness. The Joker is standing and looking out of the enormous windows. There is a porcelain bowl of strawberries next to his right shoe. Batman recognizes this is the same place where he filmed the video that was broadcasted last week. Why he’s back - he doesn’t entirely care to know.

The Joker turns as soon as Bruce enters the room. He is holding a big strawberry by the green top and bites into it. He jumps as if excited and draws the upper half away from his mouth; it suddenly takes on a frown. “You found me, Batman,” he says, his voice dropping into a low octave at the end. He takes a long time to say the word Batman as if he is thinking a lot about it. “Oh, forget it - I can't hide my excitement from you!” He giggles in a high pitch and finishes the strawberry, throwing the top over his shoulder.

Bruce steps forward cautiously and takes his eyes off the Joker’s face to examine the room closer. It really is empty, and he can't see anything that poses a direct threat to him or the immediate surroundings. His nemesis is full of tricks, however, so he asks blatantly: “What are you up to?”

The Joker bends down and lifts two strawberries from the bowl. After turning sharply on his heel to face his visitor again, he holds the bigger one by its top and swings it back and forth like he is trying to hypnotize, silently asking the Batman if he wants it.

“No thanks.”

The Joker squints and throws it at him anyways, and it bounces off his abdomen. He waves his own around too, pointing at him with it. “Want to hear a secret?” There goes another bite. “It might interest you, since you are extremely invested in keeping Gotham so clean and safe.”

Bruce looks at him again and doesn't hesitate. “I’m all ears.”

The Joker smiles widely this time and throws away another leafy top. “You do have very big ears!” He is giggling again, but his his eyes grow somber when he says, “Come closer.”

Bruce watches him wave his fingers, indicating for him to approach. He keeps his eyes on the Batman closely. Bruce takes a few steps forward until they are only a few meters apart. He isn't very nervous. The Joker is dressed as usual; his garish appearance and mannerisms are not welcoming, and Bruce finds it wise to proceed with caution even though they have been closer before. Taking a sliding step to close the distance, the Joker brings a handful of strawberries with him.

“Not even my latest recruits know about this one. I’ve gone and done it all by myself.” He eats another and chews with his mouth open. “How many people do you reckon fit in that building over…” he steps to the window and beckons Batman further over, “There?”

It's a luxury hotel he’s pointing at. Bruce recognizes it; it's located amidst a cluster of office buildings and because of its location, it's an ideal place of stay for business executives and travelers alike. It is a busy, popular, and esteemed hotel. Bruce doesn't give him an exact number and doesn’t pretend to know. He says with his usual abrasive tone, “Thousands.”

“What about…” he lets his tongue stick it a little bit as he looks around with flair, “That one?” Another hotel. Bruce repeats himself. “And… that one?” the Joker says it quicker this time, like he is trying to engage a dog in a training exercise. He is pointing at yet another hotel, and Bruce repeats himself for the third time, trying to follow his fingers as best he can.

“Thousands, just like the others.”

“Isn't business a strange thing?” He asks Batman like it’s a question he wants him to answer, but Bruce knows better. His gaze remains fixed downwards out the window. “People are so weird. We live, we die, and this natural order is all we can really know. When did we become so…” he taps a whole strawberry repeatedly on his red lips, “Business-oriented? Well, not me of course. I am in touch with the simpler things of life. But I do like showy things, as you must know by now. And I am rather creative.” He takes a bite and smiles with satisfaction, letting him know it tastes delicious with a pleasant hum. “I was deciding where to send my next movie just before you showed up.”

It doesn't take Bruce long to put two and two together. He can feel blood rush to his cheeks beneath his mask and his fingers curl into fists. “Where are your explosives? Where are they rigged to blow?” His tone increases with every word.

“Honey, honey, honey!” the Joker giggles very high-pitched again and takes a few bounding steps back, his long coat catching some air as he does. He picks up the bowl of strawberries and clutches it to his chest like a treasure. “I won't give up a secret that easily.” He eats another one of those fruits that he seems especially fond of. “But I will tell you that I have it already set up. Ready to blow whenever I say the word. It could even be a ticking time bomb. Tick, tick, tick…”

The Joker drops the bowl and it loudly breaks into a million pieces. He cackles, almost losing his grip on the fruits in his wild fit. His yellow teeth shine in the light. Bruce notices that his makeup looks very fresh, but perhaps the dark makes it more dramatic. He desperately wants to shut this clown up. He will never understand his inhuman satisfaction from acting with such blatant harshness and disregard for all things.

“However,” the Joker places an entire strawberry in his mouth just to take it out again and say, “You may be able to beat it out of me.” He puts it back in right after and sucks on it, then spits the leaves on the ground. “Or should we skip all this, maybe? Huh? Want to kiss me while I still taste sweet?” He puckers his lips and gives the air a big kiss, breaking into giggles afterwards and bouncing around like a hyper child when he sees Batman move. Bruce is fuming; he can hear his exhales and inhales twice as loud as they usually are, and he's sure the Joker can too. The clown is in a playful mood tonight, and Bruce indulges both of them in this moment. 

Batman charges at his enemy who screams gleefully and scampers away, still clutching the few fruits that remain. He puts them down in the corner but can't get too far away from it before Bruce has caught up; he slams the Joker into the wall just to pull him away from it and shove him in the direction of the ground, to which he goes. The Joker does not have as much meat on his bones as the Batman, but he's not very skinny either; he should be able to retaliate from here but lands on his bottom while making childish noises. Relying on his arms for support, the Joker is still (despite Batman charging at him) when he speaks, but Bruce doesn't understand what he says as he lunges at him and lands on his chest. He wheezes and claws his hands but the Batman’s calves are on his forearms and his knees are on either side of his shoulders, rendering him immobile. Bruce is awfully close; if he turned his head, he could probably kiss his kneecap, so he does; the Joker quickly jerks his head to the side and sticks his face out as far as he can to give the Batman a sloppy kiss on his left knee.

Bruce doesn't back away but grabs his chin not a second after and jerks it back so he can make eye contact. The Joker’s eyes follow immediately, sharp and alert. He is smiling sweetly and smacks his lips as he usually does. “Which building is your target?” Bruce shouts, demanding an answer. His grip is tight and it scrunches the Joker’s cheeks and mouth, making him look like he is pouting. It doesn't really hurt, but the hold is firm and the man on the floor doesn't want to give up yet. When he gets nothing from him but some heavy breaths and that playful glint in his eyes, Bruce lays a hard punch on his cheek that sends his other one onto the ground.

The Joker’s head lolls back to its previous position. He looks at Bruce with a relatively blank stare, then he leans forward and licks the plate over his groin in one long motion. His fun is cut short when Bruce grabs him by the hair and forces his head back down to the ground. The Joker is giggling again and licks his lips like he just ate one of those strawberries.

“Stop that---” Bruce orders in his low voice after observing the wet stripe that has been left behind. His frustration is evident, and he can feel himself blush, caused both by his annoyance and the lewd behavior this clown is exhibiting. It is blatantly obvious that it's going to take more than this to make his adversary talk. He makes a move to shift back a little and accidentally loosens his grip too much for a moment, which the Joker can feel; he takes this opportunity to come up and do it again, sticking his tongue out and catching him even lower this time. He barely makes it to the top when Batman slams his head back down and shimmies backwards so he straddles him. One hand encircles the Joker’s wrists securely in this new position.

The Joker is thoroughly amused, and his voice is pitchy and rough from their scrambling. “Come on, come on, come on,” he chants, forcing his hips upwards to try and make contact with Batman’s groin, which is hovering a few inches over him. “Give it to me, give it to me!” He gets one more chuckle out before Batman jabs him in the stomach to still him. The Joker is feeling a bit dizzy, but even more than that, he’s hot. He coughs and licks his lips again. Bruce hears him speak but doesn't really catch exactly what he said. The blood thumping in his ears makes him feel faint and nearly blinds him from external stimulus, but he cannot stop. He’s got to frisk him. If there’s anything threatening on his person, especially something connected to the bomb-plot he has set up, the Batman has to find it.

“I’m gonna search you,” he tells him, not waiting for a response before he shoves the lapels of his coat aside and feels over his chest with quickness.

“Hm… go on---” his breathing is labored, especially as Batman’s hand goes down his side and toward his hip, then makes an identical motion on the other side. Bruce is shocked to find nothing, not even a knife. He goes back up and feels the inside of his coat. There it is: he finds two knives and a small vegetable peeler. He examines each of them, holding them up to catch the moonlight. The vegetable peeler looks like the sides have been sharpened so it can act as a blade too. They are just knives, alright, and he throws them aside, returning to more important matters at hand.

“Only three knives? That's a bit lean for you, isn't it?” Bruce says nearly conversationally, resuming the pat down over his stomach. He can feel the base of his ribs quite easily. 

The Joker tilts his head up and opens his mouth to answer but Batman slaps him in the face, which is a move he never saw coming. He laughs shortly in a silly manner and drops his head down with a moan. “Oh, yeah, do that again.” His eyes roll back and his chest heaves as his laughter dies down to heavy breathing several seconds later.

Bruce ignores him and clutches his wrists harder, shifting his body downwards so he is now squat over the Joker’s thighs. His hand finds his hips, grazing them over for a few seconds and then going into his pocket. The Joker giggles like it tickles and wiggles his hips, but he’s not trying to get away. It is evident he’s chasing Batman’s hands and seeking more force from them. “Stop,” Bruce warns, and retracts his hand after he comes up blank. When he moves his hand to check the other hip and pocket, the Joker thrusts up hard so his crotch bumps his hand. It’s easy, since Batman hasn't moved his hand all that far above his clothing, just enough so he doesn't touch his groin area properly. But now he has just felt that the Joker is hard. He shouldn't be shocked, this has happened before with previous encounters; they would fight and then he would notice the Joker’s amusement evident in his trousers. He really shouldn't be shocked this time, but Bruce is caught off-guard nonetheless. 

Bruce slaps him again. The Joker’s howls seem to bounce off the walls and glass; they are annoyingly loud. His face is hot as he checks the other hip and pocket, once again coming up empty. He feels up and down his long legs quickly and tries to reach his patterned socks as best he can while still manually restraining him. 

“Keep going,” the Joker whines after Batman pauses for a second. “I might have something nice and mean under my clothes that you haven’t found yet!” Bruce continues to frown, if not harder than before, and presses on his wrists with renewed force.

All the air in the Joker’s lungs seems to escape when the Batman's hand comes to suddenly rest tightly on his hard cock, of which his trousers are doing a poor job of concealing. “Is this it?” Bruce asks. His grip is nearly painful and the Joker starts wriggling again, though he has got a devious smile on his face that’s growing with every passing second. “You still don’t wanna talk?” He shakes him and slams his wrists into the ground again. The Joker looks happy, and Bruce is appalled. It makes sense that the Joker would get off on this; not that Bruce ever expected it to, but he recognizes that it's in his nature. He’s got an obvious thing for violence, which he has demonstrated with his elaborate and damaging schemes. But he really likes confrontational violence too. It seems that never a day passes where he’s not threatening or butchering someone with one of his many stylish knives. He has, however, also proven his appreciation for guns in addition to his favorite method. Now that the tables have turned, Bruce sees that his adversary seems to like fist fights just as much. But he fails to realize that the Joker just really, really likes him. 

The man on the ground is a squirming mess. “Fear resonates with people.” He pauses to take deep breaths and sticks his head up to be closer to the Batman. His face is strangely solemn when he says, “This city is mine.” 

Bruce does not recall loosening his grip or losing focus, yet somehow the Joker gets his wrists out of his hands and thrusts his knee in his stomach. Bruce clambers about to grab his arms again but the Joker shrinks down so his head is beneath Batman’s stomach. He's got enough leverage to flip them over now so he does, wildly throwing punches at Batman’s face once he is on top. The Joker has got the upper hand this time, sitting heavy on Batman’s lap. Bruce squirms and clutches the Joker's thigh in an attempt to shove him off once the punches die down. His forearm thumps from blocking some of those hits, and he can feel that his lip is split. 

“Oh, you…” he trails off and gyrates in Batman’s lap as if he wasn't trying to knock his teeth out a few moments ago. “You really get me going.” He’s got both of Bruce’s hands in his own and they are shoved uncomfortably against his chest now, pinning him down like that. Batman jerks his own hips in an attempt to get free. His action is far from flirtatious, but the man on top of him feels otherwise. “Again!” the Joker says eagerly, bending down to give him a big kiss. He does it fast since he knows the sensitive and serious Batman will react instantly. He comes back up a second later and sees the Batman looking at him with wide eyes and a cute red smudge on his mouth. This sight is giggle-inducing and the Joker leans on his hands, increasing the pressure on his chest, just to come back down on his lap and rub his ass on Bruce’s crotch. 

Bruce is horrifically red, and he can feel what he guesses to be mostly lipstick. It's sticky. “I wish you weren’t so hostile,” the Joker says, leaning forward so his chest rests on their hands. His face is dangerously close. “Aren't you having fun?” 

The next thing he sees is a flash of black; the Batman has just headbutted him. They both scramble around, trying to find a free space to make a clever move. Bruce has enough room to punch him in the face and is quick enough to do it twice. The Joker flails and throws one back, but he misses. Bruce notes that his hand-to-hand combat skills are subpar (at least compared to him, but then again so are everyone else's). The Joker is making an awful lot of noise when he’s not being hit, most of it being ear-piercing laughter that sounds genuinely merry. He maintains his balance but is extremely jittery, bouncing on his feet like a mouse trying to evade a cat. He spits a disgusting mouthful of blood when Batman’s fist collides with his face again and does nothing when he gets shoved down again. 

“How badly do you want to know my secrets?” Shaking a bit, the Joker cranes his neck upwards to bring his face closer to Batman’s. Bruce allows it, making sure the Joker doesn't try anything funny with his hands. He doesn't wait for Batman to respond. He looks so boyish at the moment; some of the white paint from his cheeks has been smeared from the punches, and the lipstick covering his mouth is much messier than before. His spit is tinged red now, his teeth are mostly red, and his delighted grin is nauseating. “You're not trying hard enough!” He finishes on a heavy breath, and Batman can feel it on his face. It smells foul.

Not a moment later, Batman grabs him by the hair and drags him onto his feet, ignoring the hard press of the Joker’s fingers as he grabs his wrists. Words won't do any good here, and he easily swallows an unnecessary comment to drag the Joker to one of the glass windows and throw him against it. It doesn't break or shatter, but the sound emitted upon impact indicates that it was painful. The Joker looks crumpled on the floor, and Bruce kicks him in the stomach before diving down on him again, unfurling him from where he began to curl in on himself. With a shriek, Bruce feels a blow to his side that makes him lurch and lose balance over him. Another one comes shortly after, and the Joker gets to land three more hard punches on Batman’s body before he has him down again after a frantic scramble, kneeling over the Joker's body once again.

Bruce isn't thinking when he begins to choke him, one hand firm on his windpipe and the other smooshing his hands to his chest. “You're sick,” Batman tells him, almost shaking with agitation and fury. “You're disgusting. And you like this, huh?” He releases the Joker's hands, which subsequently fly upwards to grab Batman's wrists like this will ease the pressure. He stifles the urge to punch him again and puts his hand on his crotch again; the Joker is still rock hard and makes a gurgling sound when he does. Blood dribbles out of the corner of his mouth. The Batman is squeezing hard like he wants to castrate him, but he doesn't mind. He knows the Batman would never do that: he's not a killer or a torturer, but a real softie inside.

Bruce's breathing is shallow but his pulse is loud. The Joker holds on even tighter when he hears a zipper… it's his own; he feels external pressure on his cock lessen and he wants to sigh with relief but all they hear is a choked sound. The opening of his trousers get separated, and that's enough to have his cock spring out. How suitable for him to not be wearing underwear. In a better moment, Bruce would take his gloves off, but now he's not interested in making him comfortable. His grip is firm, and he can feel how intensely the Joker’s cock is pulsing. Bruce wonders if he feels humiliated; hopefully so. Through the clearer spots on the Joker's face, he can see that his ruddy complexion is turning a sickly purple looking color. He almost forgot he was choking him and lets go completely, cringing when he hears completely justified dramatic gasps for breath.

The Joker's arms lay limp at his sides as he tries to inhale as much oxygen a possible and return to a more stable state. Bruce’s hand is still on his cock, and he just watches the Joker's chest rise and fall for half a minute, both of them stunned. 

“You want to bruise me so badly,” the Joker finally says, his breathing still labored yet not as frantic. He raises his hands to his neck and touches the places where Batman's fingers previously were, then wipes some blood off his mouth. He will definitely be looking at some serious marks later. “I think it’s working, lover.” A smile returns to his face and he thrusts his hips up, putting his cock further into Batman's grip and demonstrating his lack of shame; in the same moment, he grabs the Batman's other hand and returns it to his neck, using his free hand to clutch the back of his cowl and pull him closer; Bruce jerks forward with the movement and lets go of his cock to place that hand on the ground to support himself. He can feel the Joker's forehead touching his mask. “You don't wanna kill me, you won't, but you’ll hurt me. You want to. You've been working so hard. I can take it. I promise, I can take it! I think there's even more fun to be had, huh?” His eyes are sparkling and his voice is deep and raspy as he speaks in his face, his gaze darting from one of Bruce’s dark eyes to the other; it then drops to Bruce's crotch and he suddenly lets go off his hand to grab it, squeezing hard. “You wanna play too, I think.”

The touch nearly makes him lurch, even though his cock is shielded by his suit. Batman lets him feel the effects of his irritation and squeezes his neck again, since apparently he doesn’t mind. Maybe a tighter hold will convince him otherwise. “Start talking, you son of a bitch,” he snaps, eyes narrow with annoyance and anger. “My patience is running out, and you're right - I won't kill you. But I have all the time in the world to beat you ‘til you have something say. Or I’ll just find out myself.” 

The Joker giggles girlishly but a tighter squeeze around his throat cuts it off. “You mean you have all night. The Batman doesn't prowl during the daylight.” His hands are on Bruce's again, and he holds tightly like he doesn't want to let him go. He hums and licks his lips like he's trying to hold in a laugh. 

His cheek makes contact with the ground; he's been slapped again. The smack rings in his ears, but he rights himself shortly after just to have Batman grab his face with one hand, his unkempt hair in another, and pull him up just like that. He bites his tongue in the process but can't tell if he bit himself hard enough to make it bleed - his spit has been tasting like blood for a while now. His cock bobs with the sharp and unpleasant motion. Bruce recognizes when he accidentally vocalizes a thought, but the short moment of embarrassment fails to neutralize his fury from the Joker's lack of reaction to pain. “Maybe I should fuck it out of you. What about that?” He lets go of his cheeks to hit him once more, bringing his face back immediately. The Joker barely has a chance to follow the force of the smack, and he's definitely dazed when he looks into Batman's eyes. “You're hard for it. You would just like it.” Batman feels the Joker's hands shaking against his skin, but his delighted expression does not falter for a second.

The Joker has nothing to say at that moment, especially not when Batman stands and keeps his hold on him, bringing him to his knees. His cock is so hard it's painful, and he wants relief. The Batman's crotch is currently at his eye level, and he thinks that he's going to make him suck him off. He would do it happily, but this position proves to be momentary; a shove to the back of the head makes him land on his stomach. 

It's silent save for their loud breathing when the Joker feels his shoes and trousers getting pulled off. He is very giddy now, and his hands tremble from where the Batman is holding them against the small of his back. He can't see anything with one cheek smooshed against the floor, but he hears what would make sense to be Batman’s suit coming off, or at least a part of it. He can't tell since he can't see. 

“Tell me what you're hiding,” Batman hisses, lowering his mouth to the Joker’s ear like he's offering a second chance to speak up or else. “And where.”

The Joker groans, and Bruce can feel the muscles around his wrists twitch. “I hope this isn't against one of your rules…” he says leisurely, licking his lips again and blinking slowly. “Are you really gonna fuck the truth out of me, big boy?” He catches Bruce's eye out of the corner of his own and shows his teeth before giggling in a high pitch like a bird when he sees Batman's eyes narrow even more. 

The next thing he feels is the Batman's cock on his ass: hard and heavy. He wants it so badly and his mouth is slightly open as he breathes; he feels it dragging across his backside and then his cheeks are being separated as best as possible with one hand. It happens so fast, a testament to the Batman's obvious anger and frustration; the Joker knows the Batman isn't eager, though he is wasting no time to fuck him up and do it rough and hard. He thought about fingering himself nice and loose earlier, just in case this happened, so he could give the Batman an easy slide in there, to make it really nice and sweet. This thought vanishes when he hears the Batman spit, and it takes the Joker a second to realize that he's spit on his hole, warm and icky sticky. It makes him tingle and his cock twitch even though it's smooshed beneath him against the hard floor, and he giggles unabashedly after another short moan, much to Bruce's irritation. After a couple rubs of his cock against it, Bruce hears a painful sound when he breaches his hole after a harsh push. It's in for a second and then it's out again; after a few chaste tugs, he repositions himself slightly then thrusts in further. He doesn't get to satisfy himself with the Joker’s heavy grimace since it's out of view, but the sounds he makes sate him briefly. 

The Joker wishes so badly that he could see the Batman's face. He wants to know what he thinks and what he looks like: if he still looks incredibly aggravated or aroused at this point, if his eyes are closed, if his face says that he feels good. The Batman is so sexy when he's angry, though; this is when he seems to be most passionate to him. It hurts so much when he shoves himself in all the way so the Joker can feel the hairs around the base of his cock against his ass. It doesn't feel long; the Joker wonders if he cuts it… grooms it. That's sexy, too. He wants to see so badly; he has got to be have the most fit and gorgeous body in the world. 

His cock is big and he's thick, and it drags inside him roughly, but it's still good. The Joker's breath hitches when this mercy period ends, getting mildly acquainted with his body and situated properly, and all of a sudden he's getting fucked hard. His cheek is scraping against the floor and so is his sore cock, being pushed against it as Batman's thrusts propel him back and forth. The only sounds to be heard for a period are the Joker's groans, his strained exhales, and the harsh sound of their skin making frequent contact. 

It's painful, but he doesn't bear witness to that aspect of being fucked raw like this. The Joker has instead tapped in to the part of being fucked that feels so, so good and so, so satisfying. Especially by the Batman. It's quite small since he did close-to-nothing in preparation and gave it to him so suddenly. The Joker can hear Batman's heavy breathing behind him, exhaling out of his mouth in time with his thrusts and inhaling in a rhythm like he's running. It's like a beautiful song. 

In no way, shape, or form was this a good idea. Bruce doesn't know why he is doing it. Not really. He knows how the Joker feels about him, the kind of weird fixation he has with him: chasing him, seeking his attention, closely watching his movements. This was only going to feed his obsession and probably make it worse. He reasons that he's appealing to the Joker's interests; he obviously couldn't get him to say anything meaningful by throwing him around, and the clown did try to seduce him in more ways than one, eventually resulting in his own surprising arousal. He supposes he will get the truth out of the Joker by doing what he wants in this case, like getting a promised treat from a parent after completing a household chore. That's it - that's all it is. This is what it takes.

The Joker's hands are slack against his back, flushed from Batman's tight grip on them. His weight is heavy as he presses on his back and it hurts, but it's almost comforting. He adores feeling the Batman on him, being the one object of his volatile affection at the moment. 

The Joker's breath leaves his lungs with a whine when he feels the cock slip out and away from him, but he has no time to protest, for he's already being flipped over. His cock slaps against his top when he gets maneuvered to a rather thrilling position: Batman is situated on his knees with his legs folded under him, but has both of his hands on the Joker’s neck. Now they are crotch-to-crotch, and his grip on his neck is the only thing keeping him from sliding off his lap. The Joker wants to look at Batman's cock but he can't see it. He bets it’s pretty.

“Still got nothing to say?” Bruce says roughly. His voice has changed to a deeper pitch and has lost the falsely aggressive tone that he does to conceal his natural one; it's so lovely to hear, it's so much smoother. He tightens his grip and so does the Joker on his arms, staring directly at him with his pupils blown wide. There are trails on his cheeks that tears have left behind, and the corners of his eyes are shiny from them. “Tell me what you've done.” 

His windpipe isn't getting crushed yet so they both can hear the ridiculous giggle that the Joker can't hold back. “Nothing,” he says while straining. He's got a small line of drool outlining one of his lipstick-covered scars. “Nothing!” he exclaims again after a fit of trying to draw in as much air as possible. “There's nothing. Oh…” he wheezes and squeezes the threatening hands around his neck, never losing that annoying smile, “I did nothing!”

Batman's puzzled expression pleases the Joker greatly and his grin shows it. The air was thick already but now it's laced with Batman's tentative confusion. “What?” he asks. He sounds stupid saying it; he heard him loud and clear but that needs an explanation. He lets go of his neck and opts to place his hands on his shoulders instead. He could've kept his grip on his throat since the Joker has proven he could talk like that, but he's not a threat at this point. Batman could do anything to him and he would take it, eat it up like it's his favorite meal. His breathing has calmed a bit and he watches the clown closely. His cock is throbbing but he ignores it as best he can and remains still.

The Joker talks quickly like he's on a schedule. “I didn't do anything… now that's the truth. No bombs in any hotels. No movies. Nothing rigged --- no bombs at all! We won't see anything blowing up soon…” he pauses for a moment, then continues when he sees Batman's eyes narrow. “Well, that might not be true, but you know what I mean, I'm sure you do.” He smiles again and reminds Batman of his physical presence by squeezing his forearms. 

He starts to wiggle like he wants to continue fucking, but Bruce returns his hands to his neck and squeezes in a manner that tells him he should stop. “All of your storytelling was doing what? Buying time? Entertainment? Trying to tick me off?” His face was always hot but now it's clouded with anger again. 

“You don't like me too much, do you? You might not like me, but deep down I know you like me.” He's rushing again, licking his lips and scrunching his face like that will relieve the itch his tears have left behind. Bruce can feel his hot breath. “But I guess you're a busy guy. You can't spend all your time on me, I know, I know --- but you know how much I like to work you. And isn't this a nice reward for your serious effort? You get to rough me up a little, and we both win. Now that's a good deal, even for people as different as you and me.” 

His airway is now completely blocked off and his smile dissolves as his mouth falls open again, his ass being split open by the Batman's cock too quick to be pleasurable. The moan Bruce hears from the Joker's mouth is pathetic and almost hard to listen to, and he watches as he squeezes his eyes shut. His eyelashes are wet with fresh tears. Bruce stops when he sees his skin turning colors and clamps one hand over his mouth and places the other on the back of his neck, drawing his face close to his. He's in balls deep, barely moving, and the Joker is squeezing his arms like he's trying to restrict blood flow.

Bruce wants to say something, but can't find any words; maybe tell him how much of a bastard he is, how annoyed he is, how he goaded him on just to waste his time. His lips stay pressed together firmly and he just stares at the Joker’s face. His eyes are open now but they are fluttering, and his moans are muffled on every exhale. His dark eyes are so shiny, and Bruce watches another tear fall and rest on his glove. Despite this spectacle, the clown is not getting much sympathy from him. But Bruce knows he’s not getting enough oxygen through his nose, and removes his hand from his mouth before he gets too dazed and blacks out. 

He gasps for air and moans crudely on every exhale, quieting down enough to finally say, “You're not finished with me yet, are you? You've… you've made me hard again.” He is dizzy and he slurs, then swallows before giggling some more. They are distorted by his moans and pants. His voice is pitchy and so is his laughter; it reminds him of pig squealing. Bruce's gaze drops to his crotch for the first time for a look and he's shocked to see his cock shiny and wet spots over the hem of his shirt. He's come already. It is hard again just like he said and flushed red, mostly due to irritation from rubbing against the floor, and one side has dust and dirt on it from just that. He even sees it twitch.

“Don't stare for too long or I might come again just like that,” he says on an exhale, his gaze dancing on different points of Batman's face since that’s basically all that's in his line of sight: his eyes, the sharp nose of his mask, his lips and the red stains over them. The air is overtaken with hostility when Bruce drops one hand to his ass, lifts him up, and slams him back down. He’s not thinking when he puts two fingers between his teeth to pry his jaw open and then spits in his mouth, quick and sharp, like doing that would shut him up. It's hardly erotic; he might as well have spit on his feet, but this is worse. Obscene noises have been spilling out of the Joker's mouth ever since they started to fight but this one is truly nasty. The Joker feels it on his tongue like a heavy weight and then Bruce is seeing the whites of his eyes as they roll back. It seems like he can never get complete satisfaction from doing anything to him. He watches as the Joker closes his mouth on his fingers and sucks just once, then he yanks his hand out like he wants to pull a stubborn tooth. 

This angle is no good and he doesn’t want to look at his face anymore so Bruce shoves him to the floor before he says something like how yummy that was or do it again (he seems thoroughly entertained by any act). The Joker lets himself get manhandled on his stomach and then his ass is being stuffed again with Bruce's cock as he begins to fuck him relentlessly. He presses his cheek into the hard floor and uses his other hand as cuffs to keep him from being grabby. Of all things to think about, Bruce is stuck in the thought that he doesn't want to give the Joker the pleasure of hearing him make sounds. But he thrusts in sharply and breaks, with his cock completely engulfed in heat. He's very tight, so tight, and it feels so much better than he would ever admit. He rocks shallowly, barely moving, like he's finally savoring having his cock in a hole. When was the last time he had sex? He can't remember. 

He can see the Joker’s muscles twitching when he slows his thrusts and keeps them deep. He is hitting that good spot, that sweet spot that makes him lose it. Bruce wouldn't have noticed that he came on the floor again if not for how he clenches and his hands grab at the air. He doesn't make a sound; his mouth is open but nothing comes out. Bruce doesn't stop, however, and continues to fuck him into the ground until he feels his release building up a short few seconds later. He pulls out when he knows it's coming, and it hits him hard; with a few furious pumps, he shoots his release on the ground with a groan he tries hard to stifle and is embarrassed to claim. It's quite a mess, and he's taking very deep breaths as he finishes. It takes him a second to notice the slick on his cock is tinged red as well, and he then realizes that he’s torn him during his recklessness. It steals Bruce’s attention for a moment and he wonders if being that cruel was necessary. A sound resembling a whine can be heard over the white noise in his ears but he disregards it. He's buzzing, and could be imagining absolutely anything right now. 

Bruce's hands are shaking a bit as he rights himself, covering up until he looks just like usual. He's stunned and speechless, horrified at himself; his mind is an empty field, and he searches for anything valuable to say. He just needs to leave. He stares at the body before him: he beat him real good. The Joker is moving slower now, and he pushes himself up with another sound identical to the one previously heard. “Didn't want to give it all to me, huh?” It's not a challenge or a mischievous remark, but almost thoughtful as he thinks of how the Batman didn't want to come inside him. “I am clean as a whistle. Scared you're gonna give me AIDS?” He rolls on his back with a mix of groans and Bruce observes the smears of color on his face and splotches of come on the bottom of his shirt. He looks so ruined and dirty, and Bruce tears his eyes away to catch his gaze, which is trained on him from half open eyes. He says nothing. The Joker hums. “Yeah. You seem like a clean boy, too. And you didn't even give me a chance to see you properly. Bummer.”

Bruce feels drained but steps over him anyways and grabs him by the collar. The Joker's reaction time is slower but he holds onto Batman's arms again with a ditzy smile like he's drunk. Their faces are inches apart and he searches the clown’s shiny and dirty face for further reason to be upset and maybe toss him about again but he can't; he's exhausted, and he reckons the Joker knows how he feels by now. The relative silence dares him to say something but he can't. The Joker notices the ashamed look on the Batman’s face, and it really does tickle him to see how embarrassed he is for what he’s just done. Bruce drops him abruptly when he sees the Joker’s smile grow and steps towards the window, kicking his long purple coat towards his body from where it was previously discarded during their scuffle. He doesn't know why, but he can't come up with a reason to capture him at the moment. The Batman is then gone in a matter of seconds, leaving the Joker covered in all kinds of filth.

**Author's Note:**

> I alternated between Bruce and Batman a lot because I couldn't stick to calling him one or the other. anyways I hope it's ok. this may be continued somehow


End file.
